Two men, resplendent in their white uniforms, dropped to their knees before the throne. On this ebon chair was a man in a threadbare black robe. His body was withered; his face was like melted wax, half-hidden beneath the shadow of his hood. There was nothing in his appearance that bespoke power or dignity except his eyes. When they looked on you those abyss-black pupils and gold irises seemed to bore into the depths of your soul, and you knew that you were in the presence of might beyond comprehension.
Darth Vader did not need to be before the throne to know this. The blue holo-image, projected from the Emperor's audience chamber across half the galaxy to Executor's meditation room, meshed with memory and told him everything.
To the grand admirals bent before him, the Emperor said, "I have entrusted you both with great power, and trust is not a thing I give lightly. To those whom much is given, much is expected. Your performance at Peralta was enough to satisfy the rabble, but do you believe it is enough for me?"
The Emperor loved to put his servants on the defensive. He learned so much from them that way. Vader expected the two men to stumble over each other in response, but it was Takel who spoke first.
"I know the resolution was not fully satisfactory, and you have my profuse apologies. However, the battle records and severe damage to my ship will attest that I did everything in my power to prevent the escape of the convoy. And I had no way of knowing that a rescue fleet would arrive."
The Emperor's only response was to shift his molten eyes to Tigellinus.
"I, too, did everything under my power, and more," the younger admiral said. "Without my recruitment of the Hammers, Senator Consantius would likely have escaped with the rest of the terrorists. That Peralta was a victory at all is solely due to my intervention, which-" he glared at the man beside him, "Admiral Takel personally requested."
"And he was wise in doing so," the Emperor said. "I have, in fact, reviewed the records from the battle. Your services were most invaluable, and you will be rewarded accordingly. In addition to your position as grand admiral, you will also now take on the responsibilities of a grand moff. Does that please you, Rufaan Tigellinus?"
"Very much, sir."
The blazing gaze slid back to the other man. "As for you, Miltin Takel, I have decided that your performance was… adequate. You may resume your duties as steward of Mandalorian space. However, I believe some of your material would be of better use elsewhere. The star destroyers Objurgator and Vituperator, their support vessels, and their garrisons will be transferred to the battle group currently keeping peace in the Mid Rim."
This was, of course, Tigellinus's fleet. Takel's shoulders trembled in rage but he kept his words respectful. "Majesty, I question your wisdom. The entire reason I had to request Tigellinus's assistance was because my sector fleet was spread too thin battling the Mandalorian uprising."
"An uprising, admiral? You reported no such thing to Imperial Center. From our perspective, it looked merely like a few skirmishes."
"Sir, if I had not been undermanned and undersupplied, no Rebels would have escaped Peralta. I'd have assured that myself. And frankly, sir, removing two star destroyers will be a symbol of weakness and will only encourage more Mandalorian resistance."
"Their leader is under your influence. Use him to quell local disturbances."
"Majesty, the Mandalorians have no leader. That's what makes them so difficult to control."
"Do you wish a reassignment, Grand Admiral Takel?"
"No. Absolutely not, sir. I only wish to be allowed to execute my mission to the best of my abilities."
The Emperor shook his head. "I know you consider yourself a creative mind, Admiral. Therefore, look at this as an opportunity. You will learn how to do more, with less."
"I understand, sir." Takel, however, had not given up. "And while I'd never dream of disparaging Grand Admiral Tigellinus's accomplishments, I would note that I merely requested his presence. His borrowing of the Hell's Hammers their landing on Peralta was unauthorized and without my knowledge."
"But it won us the battle," Tigellinus interjected.
"Still," Takel pressed, "we are an Empire of law and order. Our military is built on rules. A man should not be allowed to violate them so brazenly just because he has special rank."
The transmission barely picked up Tigellinus's scoffing sound.
With a sickly mocking smile the Emperor replied, "You may not have not realized this, Grand Admiral Takel, but I value results above all."
Takel couldn't bring himself to argue. One man was chastened, the other proud, but both remained kneeling, unafraid to stand unless given permission by their Emperor.
The man on the throne waited, enjoying their subservience, before he said, "There is just one more thing I would like to discuss. When I reviewed your battle reports and I found something quite interesting. Instead of both rushing to intercept the Rebel convoy, your star destroyers hung back. It seemed you both attempted to capture a single old starfighter that had taken off from the Rebel base. And you, Grand Admiral Tigellinus, succeeded. Can you explain what transpired here?"
Neither man rushed to respond. Vader watched intently, waiting for the confession or the excuse.
Finally Tigellinus gave in. "The ship was piloted by an Imperial spy who had been under deep cover on Peralta. We believed she was bringing valuable information."
"And it required two destroyers to retrieve one small ship?"
Both hesitated. This time Takel said, "We had no way of knowing it was her aboard the starfighter. I thought it might have been a Rebel escape ploy, so I requested Admiral Tigellinus assist me in capturing it."
"I see. Did I not read that several of your TIE fighters were destroyed in this operation?"
"A friendly fire accident," Tigellinus offered. "It was an unusual mission and our pilots became confused. Such tragedies happen in war."
"Indeed they do. Tell me, then, was she?"
"Was she what, sir?" Tigellinus nearly stammered.
"Bringing useful information."
Both men fumbled for an answer. It was Takel who said, "With her assistance, we were able to locate Senator Consantius in the base and capture him."
"Good. Make sure you give your spy her reward. I will make sure the traitorous senator receives his."
Both grand admirals shuddered slightly at the thought.
"Thank you for answering my questions," the Emperor said. "Rise, both of you. The audience is ended. My aide outside will see to any remaining questions you may have."
The men rose off their knees, Tigellinus more quickly. They saluted, turned, and walked out of the chamber at quick paces, subtly jostling for the lead. Takel won that race by a hair. The door hissed shut on them both.
The Emperor remained on his throne, a sunken figure in an ashen robe. Darth Vader watched as his hood tilted to a new angle and found the eye of the holo-cam. The master's gaze pierced his apprentice across light-years and in that instant Palpatine became Darth Sidious, sith'ari, the perfection of darkness.
"Your thoughts, Lord Vader?"
"They lied to you, my Master."
"So they did. But they lied in concert." Sidious grinned, baring crooked yellow teeth. "It seems they're capable of cooperation after all."
Vader did not know how the Emperor learned Luke Skywalker had been on Peralta. Vader himself had only been told by his Master days after the battle's end. But he had ceased to wonder the specifics behind such things; he'd known for twenty years that nothing escaped Sidious's all-seeing eye.
"They failed and lied to you, Master. Will you punish them?"
"Didn't I? Every gift of mine contains a punishment of a sort. You know that well, Lord Vader."
Indeed he did. For twenty years he had been trying to turn those poisonous gifts back on their maker. In the creation of the dark side clone of Galen Marek on Kamino he'd thought he'd finally forged a weapon with which to destroy Sidious. But as always, his Master had been one step ahead.
After Shenandor, Vader had returned to Sidious because there was no place else for him to go. His Master had not gloated then, nor had he berated Vader for his perfidy. He'd only chided gently, as one would a foolish child who could do you no real harm. That had been Sidious's way of humiliating his would-be usurper and it might have worked, had Darth Vader's thoughts not been otherwise occupied.
"In any case, it might have been for the best," Sidious's holo-image sighed. "It would be far more appropriate for you subdue young Skywalker and bring him to me, don't you agree?"
Vader stared at those flickering, venomous eyes. "Hunting him down is my highest priority, Master.
Sidious bent forward in his throne. "Even more than finding the Rebels' hidden base?"
Vader breathed in, breathed out. "Yes, Master."
"Good." Sidious flashed the gnarled smile. "I am glad we are in agreement. The Rebels are petty terrorists, nothing more. Leave them to the admirals, grand and otherwise. Our greatest threat now and always has been the return of the Jedi."
"I will do everything in my power to prevent that, Master."
"I know you will, my apprentice. After all, you did such an excellent job destroying them in the first place." He settled back in his throne. "Devote yourself to this task, Lord Vader. I'm sure you will not disappoint me."
The hologram winked out. The transmission ended and Vader remained in the darkness of his private chambers on the Executor. He did not move in this darkness. He welcomed its embrace and stood as a statue, black within black, thinking.
He had been far away when the evacuation of Peralta happened, and he'd only learned its import once it was over. Nonetheless, it had unsettled him more than any battle since Yavin. His thoughts kept being drawn back even deeper to Shenandor, to Kamino, to the half-completed husk of the Death Star.
To the men he'd called Starkiller.
During their first real battle, in the throne room of the mighty space station, Starkiller had unleashed his full fury. He'd used power that should have been provenance of the dark side, thus opening himself to Darth Sidious's control, but instead he'd stood as his own man. In that moment, for the first time, Vader had realized what a valuable thing he'd created.
The apprentice had been perceptive as well. He'd told Vader, "I understand you now. You killed my father and kidnapped me from Kashyyyk, not just to be your apprentice, but to be a son to you. Is this how your father treated you?"
Vader had only insisted, "I have no father."
True, but false. He was the Chosen One and the Force had made him for one purpose; Darth Sidious had remade him for another. The Jedi had said he was meant for a great destiny but he'd become only a pawn, and his apprentice had understood that as well.
"You destroyed who I was and made me who I am now, but it wasn't your idea. It was the Emperor's and it's what he's already done to you. You are his creature as I was yours, but you've never had the strength to rebel."
Long ago, Obi-Wan had told Anakin Skywalker that a Master learned from his apprentice just as the apprentice learned from the Master. Anakin had scoffed at that. Vader had thought it foolish, until Starkiller.
After the confrontation on the Death Star, Darth Vader had set about remaking his apprentice in secret. The facility on Kamino was to have been the genesis site for his greatest triumph. Through cloning, training, and stolen secrets of Sidious's dark arts, he'd created an apprentice purged of all of Galen Marek's weakest qualities. That perfect soldier of darkness should have stood with him against Darth Sidious.
But of course, Sidious knew all. Sidious suborned all. Sidious chided him gently, like a stupid child, for attempting such a grand rebellion.
As he'd knelt before his Master and taken his scolding, Darth Vader's thoughts had been on his other apprentice, not the creature of darkness, but the weak-minded pawn who'd proven stronger than Vader had ever conceived. He'd thought he'd be able to control both clones, but on Shenandor they'd each betrayed him in their own way. The dark apprentice had been seduced by Sidious (an obvious twist, in retrospect) but the light apprentice, the fool, the lover and self-styled Jedi…
"Without me, you can never be free."
Over a year later, Darth Vader still could not understand his actions.
"You're not what you think you are."
With those words, Starkiller had thrust him to safety and taken the brutal tip of the dark apprentice's blade. Yet he had never been designed to die in Vader's stead. He had chosen that fate of his own will, because he believed what Vader himself could not.
Starkiller had told him one last thing. It was a promise that had confounded him at the time, and only later became prophecy.
"One day you'll be freed… by your real son!"
He still knew so little about his true son, the one he'd thought murdered in Padme's womb twenty years ago. He only knew that his son had slain the Death Star and confounded two grand admirals bent on his capture. The Force was with Luke, just as it had been with Galen Marek.
Whenever he found the boy, he would fashion him into a new apprentice. Together they would destroy the Emperor. And then, finally, Darth Vader would be free.
Perhaps.
His first apprentice had confounded him again and again, repeatedly compelling the Master to change. Nothing had gone as expected with his makeshift son; his real one would hold surprises too. Yet he found he welcomed the unknown.
Together his false and true sons, Starkiller and Skywalker, had gifted Darth Vader with something he'd never expected, something that had been burned out of him in the fires of Mustafar, something so strange he struggled to even name it, but once he did it meant that everything had changed.
It was a new hope.